Heart Block

by Melissa Brayden

“There is!” Grace practically shouted.

  “All right then, it’s a plan. I’m going to go for a run with Walter first. See you two later tonight.” And she was gone. Sarah stared at the door, wishing the day had turned out differently.

  She decided a talk with her mother was in order.

  An hour later, most of the guests had headed home and only a few of the more rowdy partygoers remained in the backyard drinking beer with Robert and her father. Sarah took the opportunity to steal some alone time with her mother as they cleared the remaining plates. “So, Mama,” she began as they loaded the dishwasher. “What do you think of Emory?”

  “I think she’s wonderful, mija.” She smiled warmly at Sarah. “Very pretty and with a good head on her shoulders. She’s done a lot of nice things for you, and that makes me like her all the more. Did she say anything about Martin? I saw them flirting a bit at dinner.”

  Sarah couldn’t prevent a sigh. “You know, I’m not sure he’s her type. But I really like spending time with her, and then there’s the fact that Grace simply adores her. I just wanted you and Papa—”

  “Not those glasses, sweetie, we have to hand wash those. So James looked very handsome today, didn’t you think? He would be quite the catch for you, Sarah.” In response to Sarah’s eye roll, her voice moved into that cautionary mom tone Sarah knew so well. “You need to listen to me on this, Sarah. Sometimes a mother knows what’s best.”

  “Sometimes, maybe. But I can tell you, Mama, that James is not for me. It’s just not going to work out.”

  “But he’s so well spoken and funny too.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Nothing wooden in the dishwasher.” She took the wooden handled serving spoon from Sarah’s hands and started to wash it. “Once the newness wears off, it’s important that you and your husband have something in common, something to talk about.”

  “Is that the case with you and Papa?”

  “Oh yes,” she answered quickly. “And we still have a lot of fun. That’s what I want for you.” She turned to Sarah earnestly. “I want you to find that important someone to share your life with. You’ve been on your own too long, mija.”

  “That’s what I want too, Mama, and I believe now that it’s possible. I want what you and Papa have, I do. You just have to trust me.”

  Her mother nodded as she dried. “I can do that. Just don’t give up on James so quickly, and give me those little plates. They always flop around in the machine.” Sarah handed over the plate she was holding and wondered why they had the damn appliance in the first place.

  *

  “I can’t do it like you.” Grace sighed. “My hand won’t stay steady.”

  “Yeah, you can. Keep your eye just a little bit ahead of your pencil.” Emory pointed to the white space in front of the point and laid out the path while snagging a bite of cookie dough from the nearby tube. “There. That’s more like it. See how nice that edge looks? You’re a natural.”

  Grace looked up from the page in wonder. “I did it, Mom. I finished the outline of the vase. Look!”

  Sarah had to admit, it wasn’t bad. It looked quite like a vase would. It was a nice vase, as far as vases went. “I’m impressed, Graciela. I think you’re my favorite child.”

  Grace giggled. “I’m your only child.”

  “Details.” Sarah stood behind Emory’s chair and placed her hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Have you ever thought of offering lessons?”

  “For spare cash?”

  “Would you turn around so I can roll my eyes?” Sarah swatted her playfully. “No, smart aleck, for the intrinsic value. For art. You’re a very patient teacher, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when you draw, you become completely entranced in what you’re doing. It gets you going.”

  Emory exhaled, conceding. “It always has.”

  “Then you should do it more. Create something original.”

  “Yeah,” Grace said. “If you like something, you should stick with it.”

  “Thanks for the sage advice, short person.” Emory ruffled Grace’s curls in jest and began to put away the pencils, clearly ready to move on from the subject.

  But Grace wasn’t finished and moved until she stood directly in front of Emory. “Will you paint something for me? Please? It can be anything.”

  Emory didn’t know what to say. Grace looked so full of hope, and damn it, utterly adorable with those big brown eyes looking up at her.

  But she couldn’t.

  She hadn’t painted anything in years and it somehow felt like opening up a can of worms she’d rather not get into. She’d made decisions for her life and it was too late now to turn back. “I’m not sure I can do that, Grace. I’m sorry.”

  “Why not? If you’re good at it and you like it—”

  “Grace, Emory gave you an answer and she’s a grown-up.” There was the mom voice.

  Grace closed her mouth and nodded obediently. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, it’s already thirty minutes past your bedtime. Why don’t you go get dressed for bed? I’ll be right behind you to tuck you in.”

  “All right, I’m exhausted anyway. Good night, Emory. Thanks for drawing with me.”

  “Anytime, kiddo.”

  Grace moved to Emory with arms outstretched, prompting her to lean down to accept the hug fully. She held Grace in her arms, smiled at the kiss that was placed on her cheek, and watched as she scampered away to her bedroom. Emory was beginning to think she might be the sweetest kid ever.

  “Be right back,” Sarah said, scratching Emory’s stomach as she passed.

  It was fifteen minutes later when Sarah reappeared, and Emory tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn. It had been a long day, but she was anything but ready to say good night. She had to admit, there was something to be said for Sarah’s worn in, comfy couch.

  “You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?” Sarah stood in front of the couch with her hands on her hips.

  “What? You’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I pull all-nighters on a weekly basis. I don’t require sleep to live like the rest of you mortals.”

  “Is that right? Did you work today?”

  “A little this morning, and then before my run…and some after the run.”

  “I see.” She sat next to Emory and tugged her arm, urging her to lie with her head in Sarah’s lap. “Question. Do you ever take the day off?”

  “Answer. Once in a while, but there’s a lot on my plate.” Sarah played softly with Emory’s hair, moving her fingers between the thick strands and letting them drop.

  “Mmm. That feels nice. Never stop doing this.”

  “Do you like what you do?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “But does it excite you? Do you wake up in the morning thrilled to get to work?”

  “Um, not exactly. But I don’t mind it either. It’s just what I do.”

  “Don’t freak out at this question, but what if you had a family one day? You know, people who were waiting for you to come home for dinner at a reasonable hour, or you know, attend their Little League game?”

  “Are you proposing to me?” Emory squeezed her knee with playful enthusiasm. She was evading.

  “Not exactly.”

  “How embarrassing.”

  “Answer the question and stop stalling. I know your tactics.”

  Faced with no other option, Emory pushed herself up on her arm and studied Sarah. “Well, the scenario you just described would change things for me quite a bit. If I’m answering honestly, I think I’d rather be at the Little League game.”

  “But are you capable of that? Your whole life seems to be motivated by success and striving to be the best. It was instilled in you from a very young age.” There was doubt etched on Sarah’s face and it stung, because her own self-doubt was almost all she could shoulder.

  “And that worries you?” Emory asked, sobering.

  “Yes, it does.”

  It worried her too.
More than she wanted to express to Sarah in that moment. She’d known all along that she could crash and burn if she tried to settle down and play house, but she wasn’t ready to acknowledge that fact fully. Being with Sarah brought too much good into her life for her to ruin it with over analysis. “Maybe that’s not who I want to be anymore. I like who I am when we’re together.” It was the truth.

  “So…the Little League game?”

  Emory grinned as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “How could I miss it?” But Sarah’s question played on repeat in the back of her mind. Are you capable of that? The last thing in the world she wanted was to hurt Sarah and Grace. She had to do what was right for them. She made a silent promise to herself that that’s what she would do from this point forward.

  No matter what that meant for her.

  She would look out for them.

  Sarah smiled and dipped her head so that their lips were just a breath apart and hovered. “I love how much I look forward to kissing you in the briefest second before it’s about to happen,” she murmured quietly. “It’s like my insides do this little backflip in anticipation of your mouth. It’s crazy.”

  Emory tilted her head, closing in a tad more. She felt it too. “So that’s why you’re teasing me like this. You like the buildup.”

  “Mmhmm. A lot.”

  Emory raised her hand and cupped Sarah’s cheek, caressing it softly. Somehow, Sarah always managed to smell of lilac and cinnamon. Her new favorite aroma. It was intoxicating. She let the hand drift down her neck slowly, lingering on the very soft skin there, before continuing on its path downward. She let the tips of her fingers skim Sarah’s breast, outlining the dip of her bra. Sarah’s breath, which she could feel on her face, hitched noticeably. Emory palmed the breast and applied direct pressure. Sarah’s eyes shut tightly and as if on cue, she crushed her mouth to Emory’s and they were off.

  It was only moments before Emory was flat on her back with a throbbing between her legs. They kissed, groped, and slid together with absolute perfection. She’d never had a woman excite her the way Sarah did. Passion was too common a term for what she felt. Desire too basic. Grasping for some sort of control, Emory rolled them over and pushed Sarah’s shirt up, needing the access desperately as their lips clung. Sarah moaned quietly and alarm bells went off in Emory’s head. She bolted upright, still straddling Sarah’s body. Concerned, Sarah sat up too.

  “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  Emory shook her head, her eyes wide. “We can’t do this here. Your daughter is sleeping just down that hall. This is her house. What if she wanted a glass of water?”

  Sarah looked at her puzzled, doing her best to suppress the smile she felt forming at the corners of her mouth. “You weren’t worried when she was asleep upstairs at your house.”

  “Well, I should have been.” Emory removed her hands from Sarah’s shoulders as if she couldn’t be trusted. “Plus, I’ve spent a lot more time around the two of you since then and I know her better now. I—”

  “Care about her?”

  Emory stared at the wall and nodded mutely.

  Sarah’s heart soared at the admission and she cradled Emory’s face in her hands, pulling it down for a very soft kiss, which Emory was nice enough to begrudge her even in her state of epiphany.

  “While I love the Hallmark moment we’re having, I think I need to explain something here, Em. If nothing else, one thing we can count on is that there is always going to be an eight-year-old girl sleeping nearby. She doesn’t ever go away, I can promise you that. That’s just part of being a mom. If you’re afraid to touch me with her in the house, well, then we may be headed for a very polite friendship. Do you think your parents never had sex with you in the house?”

  “Yikes, really? You cannot say things like that to me.”

  “Think about it.”

  “Okay. Not helping.”

  Sarah grinned at her patiently. “My point is that we have to live out our lives too. Just like anyone with kids.”

  “And if she wakes up?”

  “We listen for her and stop. I can always hear when she’s up. It’s like a sixth mommy sense. Though, I should concede that the couch is probably not the best location. Bedrooms have doors and locks we can use…if we wanted to.”

  Silence.

  Emory raised her gaze. “Do we want to?”

  She slipped her hands under the back of Emory’s shirt, moving them up the warm skin of her back while she slowly began to kiss her neck, conveniently at the perfect height for her mouth. “I don’t know, do we?”

  “Yes,” Emory breathed. “We really do.”

  When they found each other that night, Sarah was more nervous the second time around. She did more thinking this time, wondering if she was doing everything correctly. She felt adventurous but too hesitant to give in to all her impulses. She knew one thing, however. She could never get enough of Emory’s body. It was a wondrous thing. And when Emory touched her in return, all bets were off. She lost track of everything, including her own name. Sex, she decided, was more than deserving of all the attention the world paid to it and then some.

  As she awoke, Sarah heard the water in her master shower running. She raised her head and stared at the clock. Just after seven a.m. She pulled on a T-shirt and walked down the hall, peeking in on Grace, who was curled up and happily dozing. As it should be.

  It was Grace’s last day of summer vacation and Sarah planned to let her enjoy a leisurely morning free of chores or errands. Maybe she would make her pancakes. Knowing Grace wouldn’t rise for at least another hour, giving Emory plenty of time to get ready for the day, she made her way back to her own room and knocked quietly on the bathroom door. When she didn’t receive an answer, she poked her head in. “Em?”

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” Emory pulled the shower curtain back. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” Standing under the stream of water, Emory’s near perfect body glistened, prompting Sarah to remind herself to play it cool, which was easier said than done. True, Sarah had seen Emory in a state of undress before, but never all at once like this when her head was clear. It was a sight to behold. “Come in here with me? We could save water. It’s important to be conscientious.”

  “Um, tempting, very tempting but…”

  As Sarah trailed off, Emory tilted her head. “But? Tell me.”

  “I don’t know why I’m shy all of a sudden. It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before and then some.”

  “And then some,” Emory reemphasized, smiling wickedly at her. “Get in here, so I can show you how amazing you look without clothes on.”

  Sarah nodded silently, but still didn’t feel entirely sure of herself. She knew she was decent enough looking. A solid six. Maybe a seven on a good day. Lucy, from the restaurant, now she was a ten. Emory was a seventy-nine.

  Sarah gathered her confidence. Time to turn off her overactive brain. She could feel Emory’s eyes on her as she slipped the T-shirt over her head. She stepped into the shower and underneath the stream of hot water, feeling a little bit better once Emory’s arms encircled her waist.

  “Do you realize that I’m more attracted to you than I have been to anyone in my entire life?”

  Sarah blinked at the lunacy of the comment. “That can’t be true.”

  “By a long shot, actually. You’re a mystery to me, Sarah Matamoros. There are times when you seem like the most self-assured woman on the planet, and others when you seem to doubt yourself for reasons I can’t fathom. I’d give anything for you to understand how wonderful you are across the board and sexy for days.”

  “Sexy too?” Sarah was starting to get into this. She cupped Emory’s ass and nipped lightly at her chin.

  “Very sexy,” she said through hazy eyes. “In fact, I’m scheduled to meet Lucy in twenty minutes at the office for a work session. And because I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you, I’m going to be good and late.”r />
  “First time?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Do you think the sun will still rise?”

  “I’m finding I really don’t care.” Emory offered Sarah a smile that would keep her heart soaring for the remainder of the day and then some.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was the week after Labor Day and Sarah loved life. School had started, and there was that new sense of purpose in the air that always came with it. The weather was turning colder, and she could hardly wait for full-fledged, leaves-falling-from-the-trees autumn to finally arrive. It was definitely her favorite season and always managed to get her blood pumping. Maybe she would purchase a new leather jacket for the occasion, something a little more cutting edge than her green cotton windbreaker. Who knew?

  Grace seemed to be enjoying her first week in the fourth grade and had taken up with a whole new crop of kids. Emory still got first dibs on all the latest developments in her social life, but Sarah comforted herself in the fact that Grace still seemed to choose her for almost everything else.

  Shaking herself from her thoughts, Sarah focused instead on the visitor in her office.

  “One last question and I think we’ll have all we need for the article.”

  Sarah nodded and smiled politely at the friendly looking young man who sat across the desk from her. In actuality, she was thrilled to be getting a feature article in the Union-Tribune about Immaculate Home’s expansion and would sit and talk to this reporter until the cows not only came home, but took off again. The exposure from the write-up could give the business an incredible shot in the arm, and she knew she had Emory and her press release of wonder to thank for it. It turned out there really was something to this newswire business.

  The young reporter pushed his glasses up on his nose and scribbled a few notes before continuing. “So just to wrap things up, what makes Immaculate Organization different from say California Closets or The Container Store? You offer very similar services.”

  “That’s true, we do.” Sarah came around and perched on the corner of her desk. She loved this question because the answer was the lynchpin in what made her mother’s parent company successful. “There’s a certain amount of hands-on, personal attention that our clients have grown to expect and depend on. It’s this component that’s kept our company growing each of the twenty-six years we’ve been in business. That one-on-one relationship transfers to this branch of the company as well.”